The team members coughed and spluttered and Poppy leaned forward in her seat, her eyes wide with alarm. She scanned the crowd for Francis.
Poppy stood up and stormed up to him. "Was this you?" she asked, pointing out to the field. Her hair seemed electrified with anger, and her eyes were bright and alert.
She frowned at him. "You do realize that there are recruiters here tonight, and that a bunch of those players, besides from my boyfriend, are relying on possible scholarships that they might get from them?"
"Don't worry about it, Miss Abernathy. Something like this they'll dismiss, because it wasn't in the game."
"How do you think they'll play now? With mud and dirt in their helmets and eyes? Plus, they've been embarrassed in front of their entire school. They're flustered now."
She sighed and raised an eyebrow. "Okay," she said eventually, dropping her hands. "Thanks." She turned and returned to her seat.
Poppy returned to her seat, a frown on her face. Francis' prank had had its toll; the players were struggling on the field.
Francis stood up. Luckily, he had come with nothing and would leave with nothing, maneuvering through the people as they left.
